In Nigeria, ‘feminist’ was a common insult. Then came the feminist coalition.

LAGOS, Nigeria – During the biggest demonstrations in Nigeria’s recent history, 13 women gathered to support their fellow citizens who risk their lives to march against police brutality.

The women were between 20 and 30 years old. All at the top of their fields. Many have never met in person. They met through social media months earlier and named the group the Feminist Coalition. They called themselves jokingly “The Avengers”.

“We decided that if we don’t intervene, the people who suffer the most will end up being women,” said Odunayo Eweniyi, a 27-year-old technology entrepreneur and founding member of the Feminist Coalition.

They raised hundreds of thousands of dollars last year on crowdfunding sites to support protesters who took to the streets to report human rights abuses by a police unit known as the Special Anti-Theft Squad, or SARS. The Feminist Coalition provided basic services to the protesters: legal assistance, food for emergency medical care, masks, raincoats. But when peaceful demonstrators were shot by the military and demonstrations subsided, the Feminist Coalition did not do so.

Now, your eyes are higher. They want equality for Nigerian women and are turning their focus to issues such as sexual violence, female education, financial equality and representation in politics.

The fight for equality will not be easy. A bill on gender and equal opportunities, first introduced in 2010, was repeatedly rejected by the male-dominated Senate of Nigeria.

And then there is the question of being proud feminists, in a country where the word feminist is commonly used as an insult.

For years, identifying yourself as a feminist in Nigeria has been difficult. The coalition’s decision to use the word in the organization’s name and the female symbol in its yellow logo was pointed out. Many of the protesters who benefit from their assistance were men – and not all of them supported the rights of women.

“We only use the word because we wanted them to know where the money comes from,” said Eweniyi.

We talked to some of the women behind the Feminist Coalition about why they came together and what they are trying to change in Nigeria.

Before Oluwaseun Ayodeji Osowobi started his non-profit organization, Stand To End Rape, in 2014, it was common to open the newspaper in Nigeria and, in the coverage of the crime, find the photo of a child victim of rape, without thinking about how this identification public health could affect your life. Women were raped and killed, without consequences. Many health professionals had no idea how to collect evidence of rape.

Ms. Osowobi, 30, is trying to change attitudes by changing public policies and practices. His non-profit organization runs seminars to help people prevent sexual violence and a network of rape survivors, where survivors can share experiences, mentor each other and feel less alone. She worked on legislation that prohibits sexual harassment and violence.

But it is usually the men who decide whether or not to pass this legislation.

“We need more women to enter these spaces and make important decisions and policies that amplify other people’s voices,” said Osowobi.

It was Tito Ovia’s national youth service that made her realize that she wanted to work in public health. Posted to Nigeria’s AIDS control agency, she realized that, due to a lack of data, it was difficult to say whether the money spent on HIV / AIDS prevention was making a difference.

Ms. Ovia, 27, co-founded a company with friends in 2016 that aims to try to ensure that healthcare across Africa is driven by data and technology. Helium Health helped hospitals and clinics create electronic medical records and hospital management systems.

She said she did not expect the work of the Feminist Coalition to be so serious, supporting protesters who risked their lives to try to change a police system that brutalized young people.

“I thought it would be a lot more fun than that, don’t let me lie,” she said, laughing. “I thought we were going to meet, drink, complain about men. We would do some work. I didn’t know that lives would be threatened. “

Before the Feminist Coalition, Damilola Odufuwa, 30, created Wine and Whine, a support group for Nigerian women.

She wanted to create a safe and fun space where young women could get together, have a drink and complain about sexual harassment in the workplace, the pressure to get married, the patriarchal system and its guardians and any other frustrations they had – and then start discovering solutions.

Odufuwa, head of public relations in Africa for a large cryptocurrency exchange, had recently moved from the UK to Lagos when he set up Wine and Whine. She was impressed with the way women were treated in Nigeria.

She and co-founder Odunayo Eweniyi – the same duo behind the Feminist Coalition – ensured that Wine and Whine also used their feminism as an emblem of honor.

“We are a feminist organization,” Odufuwa told a talk show host in a 2019 interview about Wine and Whine.

“Oh!” replied the host, looking surprised by the use of the word.

“We are very feminist,” she replied, laughing. “Your reaction tells me that feminism is seen as a bad thing.”

Odunayo Eweniyi, a 27-year-old technology entrepreneur, did not realize how important it would be to put “feminist” in the group’s name.

“It wasn’t supposed to be a rallying cry for the whole movement,” she said. “Honestly, now that it is, I am very proud to have used the word ‘feminist’ because people relate to it in a way that does not equate the word ‘feminist’ with the word ‘terrorist’.”

Although Nigeria has a history of feminist movements, identification as a feminist is considered radical.

Mrs. Eweniyi recently got tattoos of her favorite equations: the Schroëdinger equation, the golden ratio and the uncertainty principle.

She is working to reduce uncertainty in the lives of Nigerian women.

The initial savings app that Eweniyi launched in 2016, called Piggyvest, addresses one of the main problems that the Feminist Coalition has identified – financial equality for women. The idea is that people can save and invest even small amounts of money. It has more than 2 million customers – men and women.

As an anchor for one of Nigeria’s biggest TV news shows, Laila Johnson-Salami vividly remembers her co-host telling a producer to say his name first.

But she was not intimidated. Through Newsday, an Arise channel program, she kept Nigerians informed about the protests, which adopted the hashtag #EndSARS.

At 24, she is the youngest member of the coalition. Her main objective, she said, is to attract a younger audience. And recently she launched a podcast that can help her achieve that.

She uses her platform to hold politicians to account, but said, “If there is one thing I know for certain in this life, it is that Laila will never enter politics.”

The interviews that Ms. Johnson-Salami gives on the Broken Record Podcast are very different from her television interviews. They are intimate conversations about everything from the importance of vulnerability to adoption and investment.

“Time is over, it’s over,” tweeted Fakhrriyyah Hashim in February 2019. “You just got away with monstrosities against women.”

His tweet started the #MeToo movement in northern Nigeria. In it, Ms. Hashim coined the hashtag #ArewaMeToo – Arewa means “north” in Hausa, a West African language spoken by most northern Nigerians.

In a highly conservative region with what Hashim, 28, called a “culture of silence”, #ArewaMeToo sparked a flood of testimonies about sexual violence. When it spread on social media and street protests, the Sultan of Sokoto, the highest Islamic authority in Nigeria, banned it.

Another campaign launched by Hashim, #NorthNormal, pressured Nigerian states to apply laws that criminalize violence and broaden the definition of sexual violence.

His activism for women’s rights brought death threats and abuse. Now, she has put some distance between herself and the people behind these threats, having obtained a scholarship at the African Leadership Center in London.

The members of the Feminist Coalition were all working in their homes because of the pandemic, so, being in London during the #EndSARS protests, she was also able to raise awareness and raise funds online.

“I knew that whatever the goals and objectives we set, we would achieve them,” said Hashim.

It is estimated that two-thirds of Nigerian girls and women do not have access to tampons. They cannot pay for them.

Karo Omu, 29, has struggled to bring dressings and other hygiene products to Nigerian girls for the past four years. It focuses on girls from public schools who come from low-income families and girls who have had to flee their homes and are living in camps.

There are 2.7 million internally displaced people in northeastern Nigeria as a result of the violent and uncontrolled insurgency waged by the Islamic group Boko Haram and its ramifications. And for many women and girls living in the fields, it is a struggle to get enough food and clothing, let alone expensive sanitary napkins.

Her organization, Sanitary Aid for Nigerian Girls, distributes reusable dressings, purchased with crowdfunding money by Omu and her colleagues, so that the girls have one less thing to worry about. Some of the girls they helped have never had a tampon before.

“Women’s issues are tackled by women,” she said.

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